Partners
by runningondreams
Summary: On their first long term assignment Claude and Bennet have to deal with the company's head games in addition to the more 'conventional' issues of working in a secret organization that studies people who don't exist. WARNINGS: slash, strong language ep 17
1. Chapter 1

This is the first in a series of fics exploring the relationship between Claude and Bennet and their work at the 'Company.'

**Title:** Partners (1/3)  
**Series:** Lies to Live By  
**Characters/Pairing: **Claude/Bennet, mentions of Bennet/Sandra  
**Rating: **R (for no chances taken)  
**Warnings: **non-graphic slash and strong language, Spoilers for 1x17 '_Company Man_'  
**Summary: **On their first long-term assignment Claude and Bennet have to deal with the company's head-games in addition to the more 'conventional' issues of working in a secret organization that studies people who don't exist.

Disclaimer: 'Heroes' and its characters and settings belong to Tim Kring and the folks at NBC.

Many thanks to **superherogrlcat** for the wonderful beta and **fantasticpants** for the awesome support .

_"if a man were to become invisible he will steal left and right, he would enter every house, he would rape women and kill men and open up prisons. In fact he would become like a god among humankind" (from The Republic)_

sss

Claude Raines' invisible man had been a scientist who discovered invisibility only to go insane and start murdering people in the countryside.

As an invisible man with a healthy interest in the sciences (he'd studied both genetics and psychology once) and a rather _grey_ definition of murder he figured the name fit as well as any, though the few who caught the reference never seemed to add 'actor' to the list of attached characteristics. In some ways it was more a part of who he was than the name his parents had given him; people call you something for long enough and you start to believe that that's who you are. Four years at the 'company' and he'd generated a whole new lifetime. It wasn't real (except perhaps to Bennet, who had never seen his partner strapped to one of those operating tables and possibly believed every lie his superiors spoon fed him), but they all called him by the pseudonym he'd jokingly offered on that first day when he'd woken to the sight of two men equipped with night vision goggles leaning over his bed.

It rolled off their tongues so easily that he'd begun to forget.

He stopped turning when anyone called his true name. He lost the reasons he'd ever left home, the decisions that had led him to the back lanes and quiet houses of his 'assignments' buried under the lies he lived day after day and on into the night.

Lies that were becoming perilously close to truths.

The company defined people by their abilities. Categorized them. Studied them. Even the full blooded home grown humans weren't immune no matter how safe they felt, because this was an institution that was interested in _the way things worked_. The ability to label something was the ability to control it and nothing was safe when mortals got inquisitive.

The definition of 'test subject' excluded no one and sometimes Claude wasn't sure who had it worse- the people who were vivisected for their 'power' or the ones who never felt the knife that split their lives down the middle and didn't notice the tweezers that tugged their psyche to bits.

And then he'd remember he was getting both, one agonizing assignment at a time. Physical, biological examinations every month that left him feeling like he'd been run repeatedly over a cheese grater and deceptively simple situations that yanked him through the taffy-puller of psychoanalysis.

Like this one.

An invisible man might steal or kill without concern for the consequences but an invisible company- now that was a force to fear. If a man could become a god, a company could re-shape the universe and that's exactly what this one wanted to do.

Starting with their own employees.

Gods, Bennet would never forgive them if he knew. Claude might never forgive himself, but it was his job and in an occupation like his you sat still and waited for the gears to grind over you and kill you slowly for the supposed 'greater good' or you got yourself killed quickly and possibly messily. And then you were no help to anyone.

Still, drawing a man so obviously in love with his wife into an affair with his office partner had to be up there with infanticide on Claude's personal list of sins, and some days he hated every word that came out of his mouth.

Those were the days when he didn't know where the lie ended and the truth began.

sss

Their dynamic had been strange from the start. Bennet's position as regional manager of 'Primatech' meant that his life was paper, and as far as anyone else was concerned that meant it was Claude's life too. He was technically the more experienced partner, the one with authority behind him and that added mystery of being 'special,' but to all outward appearances he was working _under_ the rookie. A rookie who had a good three years on him.Things spiraled into complicated knots from there, perfect for the company's fascination with inter-'species' relations and hell for Claude's headaches.

Two months into the job they were sent on a week-long assignment that dragged to two weeks, three weeks, a month, a month and a half.

And he _knew _the brief they'd been given was purposefully false. He _knew_ the company was testing this fresh new partnership to see just how much could be wrung out of it.

They'd produced buckets, right on cue. Bennet followed orders even when he didn't hear them and there were nights when Claude lay awake staring at cracked hotel ceilings, almost physically sick because he could _see_ the strings as they were pulled and still he jumped.

There was another part of his mind, the part that had him joining up in the first place, that had to marvel at the idea. Spend enough time in the presence of another person and things start to change- and what better way to observe those changes than to play with people whose lives you already held? Who, if they could be asked without spoiling the whole scenario, would probably enthusiastically agree to it?

It would've been brilliant if he hadn't been stuck in the middle of it, his partner's hand heavy on his shoulder and a supposedly innocent question still ringing in his ears.

"_There's a liquor store down the street. Do you want anything?"_

It was company guidelines never to answer a question directly. They were famous for it, or would have been if anyone had known they existed.

"When was the last time you called your wife Bennet?"

The hand slipped away and Claude felt constriction leave his lungs.

"Monday, after we found the precog. You were there."

"That was a thirty second message saying we'd be here another week. Call her again."

He could just imagine the man's face at this moment- probably wearing that half puzzled, half affronted look he was so good at. _Just do it you stubborn git. _

"There's no need-"

"She's your _wife_ Jack, you don't need a _reason_ t' call her." _Remember where your loyalties lie. _

The tense silence was smothering and once his partner finally moved to the other side of the room Claude poured himself another glass of orange juice and tried to pretend he'd mixed it with vodka. Alcohol really was the last thing they needed right now. Almost two months of spending nearly every moment of every day together and they _needed_ control or Claude didn't know what would happen.

He didn't want to find out.

Quiet murmurs rose from the far corner of the room and he deliberately blocked them from his mind, focusing all his concentration on the way the dim hotel lighting cast shadows of his glass onto the counter of their tiny kitchenette.

Anything to stop himself from wondering what they were talking about, from turning 'round to catch Jack Bennet with that wistful, undeniably _happy_ tilt to his lips and shine to his eyes.

If he did he really _would _be getting drunk tonight. Invisibly, on the other side of town. Alone. He ran a shaky hand through his hair irritably.

_Hell, I may be doing that anyway._

The soft click of the hotel phone in its cradle nearly made him jump out of his skin and words left his lips on automatic, before his brain could catch up with them.

"So how is she then?"

The heavy sigh he received in response was nearly enough to let him relax- maybe Bennet would ignore him for the rest of the evening and this thorny tangle in their path could be pushed aside.

No such luck. _Damn. _

"She's fine. She's got all the boxes unpacked and started decorating yesterday."

Claude snorted. Wasn't that just like the company? Move a man and his new wife halfway across the country to a new home and then yank him away so that soon he's spent more time in crummy hotels on the job with his partner than he has in his house with his wife.

"Are you feeling alright?" Bennet's voice was cautious, a tone he hadn't heard since that first week when the man kept forgetting that just because he couldn't see him didn't mean that Claude wasn't there.

"Why d'you ask?" _That was _not_ an invitation to talk about 'feelings' mate. _

"Well, you've been staring at that glass of orange juice in a manner better reserved for brandy and you only answer questions with questions when you're stressed."

_Don't you dare start tryin' to analyze me rookie. You don't have the experience._

_Who'm I kidding? Neither of us do. _

"I'm tryin' t' stop myself from taking you up on that offer." He focused his attention back on the orange-ish liquid.

Bennet was suddenly right behind him and Claude could _feel_ him, like his entire being was tuned into the man's body heat and _Lord, this is going to be harder than I thought. _

He turned, clutching the glass tightly with the flitting thought that if all else failed he could spill it to break the moment. He used to watch girls do that when they didn't want to talk to his friends, just four years (_a lifetime_) ago.

His partner stared with condescending eyes under raised brows and Claude had the momentary urge to throw the drink in his face.

"There's nothing wrong with a few drinks with a friend after a hard week Claude."

It was that tone he always used when he was trying to be convincing, the words articulated just a little too carefully, and Claude couldn't help a bark of laughter.

"We're not 'friends' mate. We're partners. Let's try t' keep it at that, alrigh'?"

He turned away and barely caught a glimpse of something that could have been disappointment or could've been anger in that too-familiar face. He didn't plan to stick around and find out which.

"I'm goin' out."

Claude grabbed his coat and strode into the muted hallway. _I need to get out of here. I need to be alone. I need to _do_ something. _

He was invisible before the door clicked into place behind him.

sss

So running wasn't the most mature of actions, he could admit it. Nor were invisibly haunting shops and messing with the security guards or making things vanish and watching how long it took people to notice that their valuables had gone missing, but that didn't stop him from doing it anyway.

Why were their assignments always in such boring little towns? He'd _liked_ working out of New York. There was more challenge, more excitement, more possibility, and Jefferson had been amazing to work with, taking invisibility in stride and indulging in the sort of banter that only a fellow foreigner to this strange nation could. Then the guy got himself killed by a bloody _six year old_ with venom in his saliva glands and Claude was caught without a partner and stationed indefinitely in Odessa, running projects in tiny towns in _Kansas_ and _Oklahoma. _

It was so much easier to be invisible in a city. He didn't even have to be transparent.

_Liquor store, gas station, grocery, and a McDonald's. Oh, the exciting life of a secret agent. _

He bought a pack of cigarettes and leaned against the back of a souvenir shop to watch the stars emerge. The Zippo he'd nicked at the start of this amazing cock-up of a job was heavier than he was used to but it felt solid in his hand. An anchor of sorts.

"I didn't know you smoked." Claude fumbled the lighter and watched it thump into the dirt with a puff of powdery dust. _So much for anchors._

_I'm the one that's supposed to be the master of stealth. _

He glanced at the sky, trying to regain the casual mood he'd been generating and knowing he'd failed utterly.

"You don't know a lot of things, but I don't, very often. They taste bloody awful but for about thirty seconds I can forget I have any problems." _Now take the hint and leave me alone you persistent bastard. _

Bennet moved closer, settling beside him so that there were only a few inches of whitewashed wall between their shoulders. Claude kept his eyes firmly on the stars, doggedly ignoring the current that seemed to be rushing up and down his whole right side. There were a few stray clouds near the horizon.

"I'm sorry if I've said something to offend you. I know this assignment isn't easy for either of us and-"

_Gods, he's going to get all _sentimental_ now._

"Just stop, alrigh'? You haven't done anything wrong so stop worryin' so much."

The other man lapsed into silence and Claude tugged distractedly at the fraying cuffs of his jacket.

"I don't even know what we're doin' here anymore." He mumbled, fighting the urge to make himself transparent as the stars stared down at him, judging. He already knew he was guilty.

"We're here because there's been a series of strange occurrences at the elementary school. Our assignment is to observe, identify abnormalities, and recor-"

"Yes, alrigh', shut up now will you? You sound like a bloody piece of paper when you do that."

They were facing each other now, each with one shoulder pressed into the wall and faces flushed with anger.

"You asked-"

"It wasn't a question!"

Claude dropped his cigarette and rubbed it out restlessly. _Didn't do anything more than burn it anyway. _He could feel Bennet shifting beside him and refused to look up.

"Is there a reason you're so belligerent today?" His partner's voice was clipped, and he was probably clutching his hands into fists in an effort to hold onto his temper.

_Wonderful. Now we can be frustrated and stir-crazy _together_. Fuck it, why do I do this to myself?_

"Bennet, think for a second. Every morning we drive for half an hour so that we can stalk a fifth grader, a third grade teacher, and a cafeteria woman in a bleeding elementary school. Then we write reports that tell us nothing new in _triplicate_ before calling in to hear that Thompson wants us to stick around for another week to do absolutely _nothing_. No talking to anyone, no analysis, no _progress_ while we sit in that cruddy hotel room and gradually go insane. Can you see how that might be just a little bit frustrating?"

"The assignment is impor-"

"The assignment has nothing to do with those people! If they wanted a snot-nosed kid to draw the future they'd pay for his art lessons. If they wanted to recreate the loaves and fishes we'd be bagging and tagging, and if they were _really_ all that concerned with a school teacher who plays with the wind then we'd be recruiting. This is about _us_ Jack. This is about whether or not this partnership is going to work and the chances of your marriage lasting and how soon I end up on a sterile white table with the skin scraped off my hands."

Blessed silence rang for a moment and Claude dared to hope that he'd be left to absorb his nicotine in peace.

"How do you know?" He sighed and shifted back towards the sky.

"Because that's the way they work. They want to know how much you'll sacrifice for the cause."

"And how much did _you_ give?"

Claude grinned ironically. They owned every cell in his body and every action he took. He was lucky to have the thoughts in his head to himself.

"Enough."

Bennet snorted.

"Yeah, that's really convincing. Come on Claude, let go of the paranoia for a minute. The company wouldn't go to the trouble of sending us out here without a reason, a _real_ reason. And they're certainly not taking bets on my marriage."

"No, just how long it takes for one of you to sleep with someone else." It was said under his breath but the other man still heard it and Claude barely managed to turn the punch that could've broken his nose into a clip against the side of his head.

Still hurt like hell though and he struck back, some surviving rational thought reminding him to avoid the face because whatever else happened they had to go to work the next day and no one would talk to a man with a black eye, no matter how well tailored his suit was.

Bennet's next attack caught Claude in the chin and drove him to the ground. He kicked his partner's legs out from under him and launched himself onto the man's torso, pummeling his abdomen while he had an advantage because Bennet was bigger than he was and Claude had never been all that good and these things.

His partner had him kneeling with his arm twisted up his back shortly and they panted with adrenaline. Claude tried to grin through the pain because this was good- as long as they were trying to beat the shit out of each other they weren't crossing lines that needed to stay whole or thinking thoughts better left in the dark realms of the id.

"Well done. But were you really defending your wife's honor or did that punch have more to do with the fact that you've been thinking about it too?"

_Gods, I need to get control of my mouth. _

He felt a shock of pain shoot from wrist to elbow before something heavy connected with his head and all will to remain conscious disappeared.

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

Claude was vaguely surprised to find an all-too-familiar cracked ceiling before his eyes. He wouldn't have put it past Bennet to leave him out there on the ground until he regained consciousness.

_Ah—oh, ow, what a headache. _

He sat up slowly, gasping when he tried to support himself on his left wrist. _At least the bastard didn't break it._

Bennet was reading what looked like a status report by the bedside light.

"What time is it?" The taller man didn't even glance up.

"Past midnight. You may as well go back to sleep, we need to be up in a few hours."

Claude groaned let his shoulders fall back to the headboard, resting his pounding head carefully against the wall.

_Brilliant. Well, I suppose that's one way to avoid the problem. _

Then he noticed the ice gracing the man's abdomen and winced in sympathy, though he couldn't really bring himself to regret the cause.

"Did I hurt you?" Bennet's eyes remained fixed on the paper, but they hadn't moved since Claude's recovery.

"I'll live." Dry and concise, as always.

"That's nice to know, but it's not what I asked." Bennet dragged his eyes upward.

"I'm using ice, what do you think?"

Claude couldn't help a chuckle at the irritation in his partner's voice. _Serves you. _

"Yeah, laugh all you like, but you're going to look like a panda for a few days. Or maybe a giraffe. Good luck explaining that to anyone."

" 's worth it though. I can just stay invisible and watch you limp around all week."

Bennet raised incredulous eyebrows at him.

"There's nothing wrong with my legs Claude. Are you sure I didn't hit you a little too hard?"

The invisible man stared for a moment.

"You've never injured your torso before, have you mate."

The brows drew together in confusion.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Claude sighed and heaved himself upright, blinking away the black dots that threatened to encompass his vision.

"Let me have a look."

"What? No!" Bennet instinctively curled his hands over the icepack, flinching away from his partner's reach.

"I'm not going to hurt you, you great baby, I just want to make sure you're alrigh'. With your knowledge of anatomy you could have internal bleeding and not know it."

The other man eyed him suspiciously but removed his hands and leaned back, grimacing as he did so.

"Thank you."

Claude shifted the ice onto the nightstand and knelt beside the bed to examine the bruises more closely. Bennet's breath hissed through his teeth when he touched the pale skin cautiously.

He almost immediately removed his hands in disgust, shaking cool water from his fingers.

"Just how long have you been icing this anyway?"

"Maybe a few hours. I wasn't really keeping track of time."

Claude stared up at him scornfully.

"You do know you're an idiot right?"

"You're _supposed_ to ice bruises-"

"For twenty minutes, maybe. You just plopped the ice down and forgot about it, which is pretty amazing considerin', but now you're goin' to be worse off 'cause you'll be stiff in addition to bein' sore."

"But-"

"Stay here." Claude made his way to the bathroom for a few towels, grinning at the "Where am I supposed to go? I can't _move._" that followed him out of the room.

_One of these days I'm going to have to give him a proper first aid lesson…_

"Here, clean yourself up." Bennet caught the hand towel with a flinch as Claude moved to start up the coffeemaker.

"You need to warm those muscles up or you really will tear something and trust me, you don't want that. Hot water's about the best we've got, but that might be a bit of a shock so now," he knelt back down with a grin, "we're goin' to get you back to your normal temperature."

He placed his hands lightly on his partner's stomach, rubbing gently. Bennet's body jerked reflexively inward as he hissed in pain.

"Shhh. I know it hurts but bear with me. You need to relax or you'll make things harder on yourself."

Claude kneaded the bruised muscles delicately, slowly tracing warmth back into them. The gurgle of the coffeemaker and occasional stilted yelps from his normally stoic companion rang harshly in the near silence as Bennet gradually relaxed under his fingers.

The gurgle quieted but Claude couldn't make himself move, his attention restricted to the glide of his thumbs over shallow muscle and the brush of his fingertips against bare skin. The gradual cramping of his hands and the ache in his knees did nothing to deter the impulse to keep going, to insure he really had done everything he could…

It was a hushed sigh that caused him to look up and meet glassy, half-lidded eyes. The hazy gaze shoved its way straight down his throat to clench in his guts, twisting tauntingly and taking all the moisture in his mouth and throat with it.

_I'm such a fool. _Such_ a bloody idiot. _

He swallowed and licked his lips automatically, too busy cursing himself to be appalled at the crack in his voice.

"Water's done."

Rising on legs that felt like elastic was difficult, but not nearly has hard as it was to tear himself away from those eyes and cross the room for the coffee pot. He wrapped the glass absently in a bath towel on the return trip, setting the bundle on the mattress and refusing to look up for fear of what he might do.

"Just use that the same as you did the ice for about 20 minutes to half an hour. I'm goin' to get some sleep or we'll both be good for nothing tomorrow. Today. Whatever."

He threw himself onto the far side of the second bed and buried his face in a thin hotel pillow, desperately ignoring the heat radiating from his skin and the longing to _touch_.

_I'm goin' to need a vacation after this. A very_ long_ vacation somewhere very far away._

_sss  
_

A wet splash on his temple forced Claude's eyes open just in time to get the rest of the lukewarm water straight in the face.

He sputtered incoherently, pushing soaked strand of hair off his forehead and swiping at his eyes with his sleeves.

His dusty, sandy sleeves.

_Ow, Damn it. _

"Fuck Jack, what was that for?"

"Time to get up." Bennet regarded him innocently but Claude could _see _the satisfied smirk sneaking across the man's lips.

"What-" He caught a glimpse of the bedside clock and jolted to his feet.

"It's 7:30! Why the _hell_ are we still here?" He rifled through the jumble of clothes covering his suitcase in search of something that at least gave the illusion of being clean. He'd settle for anything that wasn't dusted with grey, chalky dirt, really- after ten hours he felt as though every inch of his body was covered in grit. He could _taste_ it.

Bennet just watched with that insufferably smug set to his shoulders, clean, groomed and totally professional in his hand-tailored navy suit.

_Bastard.__Probably used all the hot water too. _

_Not that I exactly have _time_ to shower now. _

…

_Fuck, and I've got mud in my hair because of _his_ bloody idea of a proper wake-up call. _

Claude snatched a pair of jeans and a crumpled T-shirt, retreating to the bathroom with a venomous glare over his shoulder.

Bennet laughed at him.

"You're going to be invisible, remember? It doesn't matter what you look like."

The door slammed hard enough to knock the rolled up washcloths onto the floor.

_Fucking bastard._

_sss  
_

"What I'm saying is, why us? Why did _we_ have t' be the ones runnin' this mission? Plenty of other teams waiting around for assignments who could do the job better than us. Isabelle and Erin for example, they'd be fantastic! Women are always more wiling to talk to other women, have you noticed that? Always. Rule of the world. Mind you, Isabelle's still having a bit of trouble staying human for more than a few hours, but still, they'd be loads better 'n us."

Bennet was staring at him.

"Are you done?"

Claude poured himself another glass of wine and nodded.

"Yeah, that should be about it."

He was learning to hate those secret little grins. They always meant his partner was up to something. Usually laughing at his expense.

"I think you're just trying to make up for that fiasco in the art room."

The glare that had worked wonders on annoying younger siblings and too-inquisitive neighbors had no effect whatsoever on Jack Bennet.

"Seriously Claude, what were you doing? It was like something out of a poltergeist movie."

The invisible man stabbed at his salad violently. _Keep shoving your nose in and I'll show you a _real_ poltergeist you great--._

"Claude. What happened? I spent all afternoon trying to convince a roomful of children that their school was not actually haunted. I'm not _good_ with children Claude. I think I deserve and explanation."

"You _think _you deserve an explanation? Are you sure of anything in your life or do you only find purpose by following orders?"

"Stop avoiding the question."

He closed his eyes with a sigh. _He'll never let me live this down. Never._

"I tripped, alrigh'? I tripped over a chair leg and fell into the paint trestle, and when I tried to get up from that I knocked into the chalk shelf. And then I figured there was already enough of a mess that no one would care much if I threw the finger paints on young Mendez's picture."

Bennet spit out his wine. Claude was only mildly disappointed when most of it made it back into the glass rather than decorating the table, or even better, Bennet's own lap.

"Jesus Claude, warn me next time."

He shrugged unapologetically.

"You asked."

"And what inspired this sudden clumsiness and amateur vandalism? It was just a kid's drawing."

"You didn't _see_ this kid's drawing." Claude mumbled into a mouthful of salmon.

"What?"

"Nevermind. Anyway, the kid's rather freaky when he draws. His eyes roll back in his head an' he sort of… hops around." He shivered. "Like watching a proper medium work when you c'n _feel_ the ghosts in the room."

His partner snorted.

"You don't really believe in that stuff do you?"

"What stuff?"

"Mediums, spirit guides, psychics. That stuff."

Claude stared.

"Jack, I'm a man who c'n turn invisible at will. You start believing in a lot of things when physics stop workin' properly in your general vicinity."

Bennet flushed lightly and ducked his head.

"Right, sorry. I forgot."

"You-" Claude's jaw clicked shut. "You forgot. You just--I was invisible less than three hours ago! We've been talking about it all evening! How c'n you just _forget_?"

"I don't know! I--"

They watched each other silently for a moment.

"Sorry."

Claude waved off the apology impatiently.

"Stop apologizing, you've got nothing to be sorry for. Actually I-" he stopped. "I'm kind of glad you c'n forget it. It's nice to know you're not constantly thinkin' of me as one of _them_, as Thompson put it."

He focused his attention back on the half-full plate before him.

_Now we're havin' a bleeding _moment_. What the _hell_ is going on? We're work partners not--_

_Fuck. _

_I didn't sign up for this, damn it. _

The screech of his chair skidding back grated unpleasantly against his ears as he stood hurriedly.

"I have to go."

Bennet was giving him that half-puzzled half-disappointed gaze again. Claude threw a handful of bills onto the table and stalked away, fading into transparency as soon as he left the restaurant and scaring a flock of sparrows into flight.

He didn't stop until he'd ensconced himself on the roof of an opposite apartment building. They sky was halfway between the dusky purple hues of twilight and the inky tones of full night and he would have given anything to just disappear into its expanse.

_How many times have I wished for flight instead of invisibility? How many times? _

The invisible man (_truly invisible now, the power stretching over his body like a liquid shield against prying partners) _closed his eyes and let the night wash over him quietly. He could use all the tranquility the sky might have to offer.


	3. Chapter 3

"Claude?"

It was Bennet, glancing furtively around the roof in the darkness. Just another shade of black among many.

"I know you're here. You always head for an unimpeded view of the horizon and this is the closest building with a fire escape."

_However true that may be, you're still only bluffing. If you really knew you wouldn't be talking so much. _

"You may as well show yourself. You'll have to eventually, we've only got the one car."

Claude sighed softly and let himself become visible once more with a ripple of shadow.

"What do you want Bennet?"

The answering grin was barely discernible as a flash of white teeth in the darkness.

"There you are. I was thinking it's about time to head back. We've got a long drive in the morning."

_I'll bet that's what you were thinking_. _You're too genuine to be telling the truth Bennet, what's your game now?_

He straightened listlessly and tossed over his keyring. It jangled tunelessly when the other man caught it.

"You c'n drive. I'm not in the mood."

"Wha-"

"And don't give me that look, 's gettin' bloody annoyin'."

Bennet pursed his lips and shrugged unconcernedly.

"Whatever you say."

_Do you live your whole _life_ that way mate? One instruction at a time? _

The walk to the car was spent in restless silence, and the drive back to their hotel was no better. Claude fiddled with the radio for ten minutes before shutting it off impatiently and settling for staring out the window absently. Bennet didn't say a word.

_Shower, get this paint out of my hair, and bed. And tomorrow I can tell Thompson to get someone else for this partnership._

Almost as soon as they entered their shared room he started unbuttoning the dressy over-shirt they'd bought to cover his paint-splattered T-shirt, stopping only to drop his watch on his side of the nightstand.

"Claude."

He restrained himself from rolling his eyes as he turned.

"What now Ja-"

Bennet was close. Too close. Claude felt his eyes widen of their own accord as he took an involuntary step back, noticing too late that he had nowhere to go.

"Wha-"

The words died in his throat as the other man leaned closer, one hand reaching up to grasp Claude's stiff white collar as the other steadied itself near his hip.

The first brush of chapped lips against his own set off warning bells in his mind but he'd wanted this for _weeks _now, he'd tried so hard to stay away and… He closed the distance cautiously, leaning into Bennet's warmth and tilting his head just enough to let their lips meet directly, too-dry exteriors mixing slowly with moist insides as heat spread through his limbs and the need to be _closer_ became overwhelming.

He didn't realize they were moving until his calves hit the mattress board and they crashed onto the bed, teeth clacking together painfully. Claude jerked away reflexively.

"Sorry-" Bennet's voice was hoarse and Claude just shook his head, shifting back and dragging his partner more fully onto the mattress, hands moving under the man's navy suit coat in an effort to bring their bodies together.

"I thought I told you to stop apologizing."

He got a low chuckle in response and then all he could do was feel the heat of Bennet's hands on his hips like spots of hot wax and Bennet's lips moving against his lips, his neck, his collar, spreading wet coolness and nerve-tingling pleasure though his body as he gasped and tried to keep up, his hands stroking broad shoulders and his lips worrying what bare skin he could reach and _Oh, gods. _

He curled his hands around the back of Bennet's neck and pulled him down until the man was straddling him, their chests pressed together almost painfully and he thought he might have sunburn from the heat between them as his partner's tongue trailed tauntingly over an earlobe before pulling it fully into a warm mouth and _tugging._

Quick fingers at his belt jolted his mind back into gear and he grabbed the hand firmly, recapturing the man's attention by pulling their mouths back together and running his tongue over the other's teeth.

When the fingers returned, sneaking under the waist of his jeans to brush at the skin beneath, he jerked away, pushing Bennet onto the other half of the bed and sitting up fully.

_Damnit Jack, don't ruin this now, _please

Warm hands settled heavily on his shoulders and he could _feel_ the burn of his partner's body against his back as a nose and dry lips nuzzled his neck.

"What is it?" a whisper, but they were close enough that it was a wonder they couldn't read each other's thoughts. Stranger things had happened, he was living proof of it.

"Just," Claude jerked away from the teeth that were suddenly rubbing at his shoulder.

"Jack, stop. I mean it."

The warmth disappeared, leaving him almost shivering at the cold as Bennet sat back.

"What's wrong?"

"I just-" Claude stood and ran a hand through his hair irritably. "Nevermind, I'm goin' to take a shower."

"Claude-"

He spun back towards the other man, scowling and trying to convey his frustration with helpless hand gestures.

"Have you thought about this at all? Even one tiny little bit?"

Bennet raised an eyebrow.

"There hasn't exactly been much else to think about you know."

"No, I mean- bloody hell Jack, just leave it, alrigh'?"

"Claude." His wrist was caught loosely and Bennet was staring pleadingly at him from the middle of his bed, jacket discarded somewhere along the way and his shirt half unbuttoned, hair tangled as only grasping hands could manage.

_Fuck it, that vacation starts tomorrow. This isn't fair. _

He bit the inside of his lip hard and jerked his arm away roughly.

"Sorry, I don't put out on the first date."

The other man snorted.

"We've been living together for two months Claude, I hardly think that applies."

Claude fought the urge to let invisibility take over as he moved away.

"Oh it does. It definitely does. And you would also do well to remember that you're happily married, and only here because of a thrice damned _business trip_ gone wrong."

_Thompson should be happy, the git. _

"Claude,"

He shut the bathroom door and shouted through it.

"If you're really that desperate you can jerk _yourself_ off- It's going to take a while to get this gunk out of my hair!"

Warm water washed over him, drowning out any response Bennet might have made as Claude leaned his head carefully against cool white tiles and tried to convince himself he'd done the right thing.

_And when did I start caring about the 'right thing' anyway?_

_sss  
_

They didn't speak the next morning. Claude shoved clothes haphazardly into his suitcase and gulped a glass of orange juice while Bennet carefully hung his suits and chewed his toast.

Bennet offered the car keys silently and Claude took them brusquely, forcibly stopping himself from saying anything or even really looking at the man.

The four hour drive back to Odessa was one of the worst trips of his life. Like going to a particularly hated relative's funeral. Even when they finally pulled up on Juniper Lane in front of Bennet's new house, the one he'd barely seen before being sent on assignment, they just stared out the windows, avoiding each other's eyes.

"I'm sorry."

Claude gave a self-deprecating smirk.

"I wasn't exactly an innocent bystander you know."

Bennet nodded but made no move to get out of the car.

"Go home Jack." Their eyes met for the first time all day and Claude let the bitter little smile sneak across his lips again. "Go home and sleep in a real bed and kiss your wife and tell her about how the factory just can't seem to survive without you and you think its some sort of new-manager hazing they've developed."

The taller man licked his lips and opened his mouth as if to speak before resorting to another nod, this time reaching for the door handle and pulling his travel bags out of the back seat.

Claude waited until he saw a slim blonde woman open the front door to embrace Bennet happily, mentally filing away the joy in his partner's face and driving away slowly.

Thompson would be wanting a report by five, and the privacy of his own apartment was waiting just beyond the inevitable questions.

_I don't know if the lies I'm telling_

_Are lies in truth or lies in mind,_

_I only know they're lies I'm living_

'_til living leaves the lies behind. _

_fin. _


End file.
